


Old Gods with New Wounds

by Jammit_Sammy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Kinda, M/M, Non-Binary Tony Stark, Non-binary character, Not Steve Friendly, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Tony Stark is a God, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 15:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16813324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jammit_Sammy/pseuds/Jammit_Sammy
Summary: Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, reincarnated god, philanthropist. He never could do anything by halves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my fic, and I hope you enjoy. Sorry the first chapter is so short. More should be on its way.

Cold. Vaguely, Tony could feel the cold from the outside seeping into his suit. Calling out to his AI had done nothing, not that he had expected it to. Steve had crushed the reactor, effectively cutting all power to the suit. Mentally assessing the damage, Tony came to the startling conclusion that he was going to die here. The suit around him was several tons of strong alloy, completely powered down and essentially dead weight. He couldn’t move, and no one was coming for him. No one knew he was here. 

The metal of the chest plate was pressing down on his ribs, diminishing his already shoddy lung capacity, and Tony was too tired to be worried about it. He would die of hypothermia and internal injury within the next twelve hours, most likely. He knew his core body temperature was dropping fast and that his immune system was shot to hell in the first place. Closing his eyes, Tony let his head drop to the ground and thought of his mom. The love he could have had, the love he knows she would have given him, had Howard not hollowed her out. 

His breaths were coming out in short gasps now, and everything below the waist was numb. He couldn’t feel his fingers, and the cold had long since frozen his nose. His body’s systems shutting down, Tony felt himself warming up. This must be what dying felt like, he was so cold his body no longer knew what sensation to transmit to his brain. Sinking into the warmth, Tony made his peace with the fact that this desolate winter terrain would be his grave.

Technicolor dreaming, the feeling of flying, a man, and the most golden eyes you’ve ever seen. No. The second most. Who was the first? The answer is right there. 

“It’s been far too long. You must remember. Wake up, the world needs you.”

The armor went up in red light, disappearing along with the cold. Whiskey Brown eyes opened in a blaze of opulent gold.

_ “I cannot carry on Frigga. He is gone and I can’t find him. It is time I moved on.” _

_ Frigga stroked the hair out of Freyja’s face. “Freyja, you have to know with absolute certainty that this is what you want. What of Fólkvangar? You are the other half of my soul, what will I do without you?” _

_ Freyja reached up to stroke a thumb across Frigga’s cheek. “You’ll do what you always do. What is best for your people and your sons.” _

_ “Thor is to be crowned soon. He would want you there.” Frigga let the statement be colored in a plea, hoping to convince the younger goddess to see reason and stay. _

_ “My dearest Frigga. That bullheaded pillock will be crowned, but we all know it is Loki who will rule. Our blíðris is powerful. Be careful not to let Odin alienate him. Someone else may see his heart and his power, and twist them to their will.” _

_ Realizing that she was not going to convince Freyja to change her mind, Frigga nodded. _

_ “He is hjartað mitt, of course I will not let anything happen to him.” _

_ Freyja nodded, smiling softly, before plunging the enchanted dagger into her chest while chanting. Her new form would not remember, and that was the bliss she needed. _

So much for not remembering, Tony thought as his body shed the years and the scars he had collected over them. His skin was flawless, he looked about twenty years old, his facial hair was gone, and his hair was rapidly growing to a truly ridiculous length. Explaining this away would be a bit hard. 

When the hair reached the floor, and all the aches Tony had become accustomed to were gone, he stopped to consider. Pronouns were going to be a bit of a mess. All of these old memories of a very feminine body. Centuries of them, in fact. The memories of masculinity paled in comparison. But Tony didn’t feel like there were two people inside of him. He didn’t even feel like an entirely new person. He was still who he had always been. A genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Modification to the playboy, because at one point he was a playgirl. She was a playgirl? Irrelevant. Even when referring to his own femininity, he refused to use the words skank or slut. No woman should ever be called something so vile. It was no one’s place to pass judgment. Pronouns would have to be rethought though, because strictly male didn’t feel right. A warm glow emanated from his core at the thought of using neutral pronouns, something to review at a later time. Preferably a time not spent in a Siberian wasteland. 

Tony idly wondered if their new found godhood meant they could use the bifrost, but they already knew the answer. 

“Gandalf, buddy, need a lift on your gay teleport bridge.”

Tony waited a moment, expecting something to happen. When it didn’t, a memory surfaced.

_ “Freyja, you know I detest when you call me anything other than my name. I am the keeper of the bifrost, not your childhood friend.” _

_ Freyja pouted, sitting on the raised dais that Heimdall occupied. “Where’s the fun in that?” _

_ “There is not meant to be fun. See how ‘fun’ you find it, when next time you address me by a different title, I do not answer your summons.” _

_ “Grump,” Freyja huffed, standing gracefully and walking away from the all seeing gatekeeper. _

Tony rolled their eyes. “Ugh, such a sourpuss. Heimdall, oh mighty omniscient one, please send down your queer space tube.”

There was a crack of thunder, lightning and then Tony was being sucked into what amounted to a vacuum, colors and landscape flying past them at incredible speeds. They had forgotten how good it felt to travel as the gods do. Because they were a god. Still getting used to that.

The bifrost spit Tony out, tumbling across the ground like a newborn calf, right in front of the tower formerly known as Avengers Tower.

“Thanks, I owe you one. And do me a favor, don’t tell anyone I’m back. I have plans to set in place.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I’m jet lagged as hell. And after naps? Yule planning. We’re celebrating the fuck out of that bitch.” Then, as an afterthought he added, “And getting absolutely, irrevocably sloshed.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to go more into depth about Pagan holiday traditions, specifically yule, but I didn't feel like it fit since I'm obviously not posting on Christmas like I had planned. Plus, I didn't want to give the idea that all Pagans celebrate this way, since every walk is different, just like it is for Christians. It's just a mash of my personal traditions and what I feel Tony and Rhodey would do. If you guys would like a few thousand words of Rhodey and Tony actually celebrating though, let me know in the comments and I might post the scene as it's own excerpt.

The preparations had taken months, and Tony was tired. Tired of hiding from Pepper, and Rhodey, and the SI board. They had been using a simulated hologram to attend board meetings via video call, because their newly acquired youth and voluminous hair were a bit of a problem. They found, though, that if they cut it any shorter than shoulder length, it would immediately grow back. But if they cut it to shoulder length, it would take about seven days to reach its new natural length of sweeping-the-floor. Tony felt like goddamn Rapunzel.

It had been several engineering filled days since Tony had completed their recently developed daily routine of hacking at their hair with a pair of scissors, braiding it into a crude French Braid, and slipping on the wig they had custom made to look just like their short hair. Followed swiftly by the nanotech Tony had originally developed to make their newest suit, that also worked remarkably well as a virtually non-existent and lightweight mask. It made Tony look like they had before the miraculous de-aging of near death transformations into godhood.

Despite the fact that Tony had solved all of the problems they could, in relation to their appearance, they still hadn’t left the tower. They knew they had to answer Rhodey’s calls, see Pepper, and attend a board meeting in person eventually. It was obvious the people in their life were giving them space to heal. But even saints don’t have infinite patience, and Tony’s friends never claimed to be nearly that holy.

With all of this in mind, Tony really shouldn’t have been surprised when JARVIS informed them that Rhodey was on his way up to the penthouse and he wasn’t taking any bullshit excuses, exhibiting a prime example of one of the many reasons Tony loved Rhodey. Tony Stark was a lot of things, all bullshit and no bite used to be one of them. And James Rupert Rhodes was the first person to call him on it, entirely out of care. Maybe not love, that first time. But hell, who knew. Rhodey always said he knew Tony was gonna be his best friend, from the very start.

“Alright Stark, pity party is over, I’ve got Vod-“

Rhodey stopped speaking as he rounded the corner and spotted Tony. Tony, who had not yet begun their daily routine. Which meant their hair was hanging loose and wavy all the way to the middle of their back.

“Hey Sunshine. Did you miss me?”

Breathing out heavily, Rhodey tossed his wares onto the couch and practically tackled Tony in a hug, “You have no idea.”

Hugging Rhodey was like coming home. Slammed with memories made as both Tony Stark and Freyja, Tony nearly buckled.

_“Wisdom is not synonymous with intelligence, little sister.” Freyr teased, pretending to read a book as they sat in Odin’s palatial gardens._

_Freyja looked up from her task of braiding flowers into her hair. “Little sister,” she scoffed.”I am your twin and equal, Freyr. You would do best to remember that.”_

_A book was thrown by a calloused hand, and caught by a perfectly manicured one._

_“Now brother, violence is never the answer.”_

_“Says the warrior princess.”_

_Freyja rolled her eyes at her brother and lay back on the grass. “I will miss this place.”_

_Freyr moved to lay next to her, looking up at a small patch of clouds that were scuttling across the sky. “Where do you plan to go, that you will miss your home so.”_

_With a brilliant smile she says, “You are my home Freyr. You and Odr and Ottar are all I’ll ever need._

_“No!”_

_Her feet hit the ground rapidly, jarring her bones and rattling her brain in her skull. Quickly, she needed to get there. To see for herself that the impossible news was true. How terrible a thought, that her strong brother with his self fighting sword could have- no. She would not believe it until she was able to see it._

_“Freyr!” She called out, but the crowd was too dense. The crowd of Asgardians greeting their returned warriors. Her brother was among them, had to be, he just had not heard her call because of the noise. She pushed to the front of the crowd, to see the soldiers, and there was Freyr. But he would be receiving no greeting. For he was rent in two, cut off at the waist and a gruesome sight. Without heed to the procession, or the hands attempting to hold her back, Freyja ran to her brother’s side, forcing the line to stop._

_Cupping his face, Freyja whispered the warrior’s prayer. The one of their people. They may live on Asgard, Freyr may have died for Asgard, but they were Vanir. Vanaheim was their home, and the prayer for her brother would be of that home. As she spoke, tears flowed freely, coating her brother’s face in a light sheen of gold like the seidr he so skillfully wielded._

_“May you go with love, brother, and meet me again one day.”_

Pulling back from Rhodey, Tony noticed those same golden stains on the man’s white shirt.

“Freyr?”

Rhodey grinned, broad and radiant, bight as the sun he was god of, “The one and only.”

Sniffling, Tony allowed themselves to be reeled back into another bone crushing hug.

“I thought I’d lost you,” they whispered into the skin of Rhodey’s neck. Their best friend, their brother, whom Tony had just watched die in vivid replay.

“You can’t get rid of me.” It was said jokingly, but so achingly soft that they both heard the vulnerability.

“Hey,” Rhodey said after several minutes of just just holding each other. He smirked, smug and self assured. “I really am older than you now.”

Startled into a loud burst of laughter, Tony slapped Rhodey’s arm and pulled away. “You’re a pain in the ass. In every life.”

“Oh yeah. _I’m_ the real trouble maker in this relationship. You know, hiding my godhood. Building a giant metal suit of armor.” Rhodey shot them a sardonic look. “Gods, you’ve always been flashy. I have no clue why I was ever surprised that the first thing you did coming back from that cave was make something dangerous and clever and _sexy_. It’s exactly the kind of thing you would do, memories or not.”

Tony flinched at the topic, more out of reflex than anything. At some point, they had found that the mention of Afghanistan didn’t dredge up the panic it had before The Shift. But, even having lived millennia, it was still a highly unpleasant and memorable occurrence. Although, in the grand scheme of godhood and celestial war where they had seen their brother torn apart and their people dying, it wasn’t so significant as it once had been.

“Naps!” Rhodey exclaimed, identifying the far away look on Tony’s face.

Knowing his best friend and the fact that neither Tony nor Freyja took well to being looked after, despite craving the care. So he followed his statement up with, “I’m jet lagged as hell. And after naps? Yule planning. We’re celebrating the fuck out of that bitch.” Then, as an afterthought he added, “And getting absolutely, irrevocably sloshed.”

Tony couldn’t have thought of a better plan themselves.

When Tony woke, they were curled completely around Rhodey, with their head tucked beneath their best friend’s chin. Looking up at his face, Tony gasped when they saw that Rhodey looked about twenty years younger. It was still obviously Rhodey, but a Rhodey from their days at MIT. Tony attempted to move back, hoping for a better look, and accidentally roused Rhodey.

“Tones?” Voice thick with sleep and eyes heavy, Rhodey looked just like he had on every early morning Tony roused him after a work binge to show off what he had created. And like all of those mornings, though he was half asleep, Rhodey was prepared to hear what Tony had to say.

“How do you do it?” Tony asked softly, thinking if they spoke any louder they’d shatter the moment.

“What?”

“You look so young right now, but earlier you looked like my Rhodey. My fifty-year-old Rhodey.”

Tony reached up to stroke Rhodey’s face, the man allowing it as he pondered the answer.

“You remember our seidr, right?” At Tony’s nod of affirmation, Rhodey continued. “Since I’ve known, basically from the start, who and what I am, I’m able to use it to mask my true features. You’ll get the hang of it, eventually. But right now, you’re still remembering things. Don’t push yourself Tones. It’ll come back to you.”

Tony groaned, shoving their face into Rhodey’s chest. “That’s wack.”

A pause, and then Tony’s head shot up. “Did I just say wack? What is wrong with my mouth. Why is it betraying me so?”

Rhodey laughed and ruffled Tony’s hair, “It’s a part of your nature. You’re the most desirable goddess. Which somehow always translates to you being the most ‘hip’.”

An adorable pout crossed the goddess’ face. “I don’t want it. Take it back.”

Snorting, Rhodey got up from the bed and made his way to the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “You love it. You can’t lie to me.”

A pillow to the back was the only response Rhodey got.

***

Tony was perched on Rhodey’s shoulders, putting cute little Christmas stickers on the windows. White stencil pictures of holly and bells were carefully being laid, adhesive backs ensuring a mistake would be nearly impossible to fix.

“Hey, Tones. Where did you get all of this?”

Tony hummed distractedly. “Uh, I think Pepper bought a ton of Christmas decorations that just… never got put up.”

Nodding, Rhodey felt himself smile. Listening to Freyja sing was always something he had enjoyed. Listening to the sweet rasp of Tony’s voice, with the hint of what Rhodey remembered as Freyja underscoring it, was soothing to his soul. He had missed his sister, his better half.

“Ya know,” Tony rested their hands on Rhodey’s head, done putting up the stickers. “There aren’t very many Christmas songs I actually like.”

Rhodey did know, but he didn’t want to burst Tony’s bubble. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. This is one of them, though. White Winter Hymnal is so upbeat, but the lyrics are so _morbid_.”

Rhodey shook his head, “Of course that’s why you like it.”

“Don't be a jerk. And put me down. My thighs are starting to cramp.”

“No they aren’t, don’t lie to me.” But Rhodey put them down anyways.

“You’re right. But with my new found lack of height” Tony held up two fingers to stop Rhodey from speaking. “I am _aware_ that I was not tall to begin with." A pointed glare. " _Like I was saying_ , now that I am all of 5’5” exactly, I do not enjoy it when my feet are not touching the ground.”

They looked at each other for a moment, Rhodey giving him The Eyebrow.

“Yeah, okay. The suit doesn’t count.”

When Rhodey continued to look at Tony, Tony looked incredulously right back.

“Are you, Mr. Eyebrows, implying that I will be able to _fly_?

“C’mon Tones. You can’t tell me you don’t remember that part.”

“As a matter of fact,” Tony said, a touch hysterically. “I most definitely do not remember that.”

The rasping sound of a palm running over a face could be heard in the sudden silence. “Listen, talking to you has always been like navigating a minefield. With your memories coming back, I thought it would be easier. I should have known. Nothing’s ever been easy with you, as Freyja and Tony both.”

Tony smiled tentatively at Rhodey. “Maybe. But you love me, right?”

“Of course I love you. You're my little sister.”

Tony threw a wrench at Rhodey, seemingly pulling it out of thin air. “Butt head.” They lowered their voice a bit and asked, “Hey, Rhodey? Would you mind using more… gender neutral terms for me? It’s just that, I don’t really feel like a man anymore and,” they picked at the loose shirt they were wearing and ran a hand through their long hair. “and I definitely don’t look like one any longer. But I also don’t feel female? I don’t know, it’s weird. But I’m not _just_ Tony anymore. Kinda like I’m not _just_ Freyja.”

Rhodey nodded in understanding. “It isn’t the first time a god or goddess has gone by anything outside of the binary. It’s a human construct anyways. Doesn’t bother me any.”

“What a relief.” Tony exaggeratedly wiped their brow and moved on. “Aaaaaaaanyways, decorations are done, and the yule log got here an hour ago. Let’s light the bitch and bust out the vodka!”

Rhodey trailed the bright ball of energy that was Tony Stark, laughing fondly. “Yeah yeah, you lush.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, queries, cries for help?


End file.
